I
met a minotaur ten years ago.
My sister taught me that you can make your body
a hole, and remarkably, repair it again.
My teacher showed me that great art can be unremarkable
in its materials or its gesture.
My dad lives in the desert inventing imaginary non-profits
in his underwear, yelling at my mom for giving him
lesss spaghetti sauce than he deserves.
America ate my dad and my sister. Or they ate it
and shit it out. Or it shit them out. That's why
I make art. To eat it. Let it eat me. Shit myself
out. To make the minotaur's American art. Let it
shit me out. |
